


Chordae tendineae

by FrozenSnares



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, Quiz Bowl, Rivalry, challenge, i still don't know how to tag things, i'm not continuing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6264124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenSnares/pseuds/FrozenSnares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shireen Baratheon decides she hates Rickon Stark after a brief meeting in high school, she's glad to be rid of him once she graduates. Unfortunately, he follows her to the same college, and she thinks it might be just to annoy her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chordae tendineae

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this post on tumblr, even though it didn’t end up how I thought it would.

As far as Shireen was concerned, the feud started when she was sixteen. 

She had always been a fairly intelligent child. She enjoyed puzzles and riddles, memorizing trivia, and she had longed for someone to challenge her. That is, until she met them.

Shireen had a crush on Rickon Stark for all of ten minutes before she decided she hated him. He was cute, fit, and had somehow decided to join the same club at his school. She thought about giving him her number and maybe going out with him far too seriously for having only seen him across the room. However, when he started talking, she completely changed her mind. He argued his way out of everything, pulling technicalities and differences wherever he could. Shireen decided she would never be able to tolerate being in the same room as him. Luckily, high school was just a short amount of time, and she only had to put up with him at competitions.

College was infinitely better than high school. For a number of reasons: getting to pick your own schedule, classes, professors, meal plans... Shireen, however, was currently fixated on one detail. She no longer had to deal with the stupid boy from the school across town who made his personal goal infuriating her. Shireen was pleasantly surprised to find Quiz Bowl at her college, and she jumped on the opportunity. She still got to study random facts and trivia, and she was having the time of her life. Nothing was going to take it away.

After the joy of having her freshman year run so smoothly, Shireen had almost completely forgotten about how peeved she was in high school. However, she got a sharp jolt back to reality when a familiar, cocky voice found its way into Quiz Bowl week one.

Shireen cringed. The tone was just so condescending, so grating, that she almost quit there and then. With a heavy sigh, Shireen turned away, hoping that Rickon Stark wouldn't recognize her.

It only takes two weeks for him to start staring. Shireen curses the scars on her face for making her so recognizable. She already knew that they didn't help her look pretty, and she was over the fact that people avoided talking to her when possible. But being recognized was quickly becoming her biggest problem.

When Shireen catches Rickon's jaw jumping every time she answers a question, she skips the next meeting. It isn't worth it. And she misses it too much to quit. She is just going to have to make Rickon suffer through it. She resumes meetings, knowing that their competitions were going to start soon. She resumes her previous nature, thinking that she can just ignore him.

“That’s not right.”

Shireen groans, shooting a glare over to where Rickon sits. He made it halfway through the meeting before he started correcting her. She wants to yell at him, to tell him that no one cares, and maybe wipe that smug look off his face. It's all for technicalities, insignificant details that he memorized for no reason. Crossing her arms, Shireen keeps her mouth shut for the rest of the meeting, searching for a chance to make _him_ eat his words.

“Next question: Endocarditis involving the tricuspid or mitral valves can damage or destroy these structures that connect the valves to the papillary muscles that pull them open,” their advisor reads.

“Heart strings!” someone shouts. They get a small glare for not using their buzzer.

Someone else buzzes in. “Tendinous cords,” he says.

“ _Chordae tendineae_ ,” Rickon corrects immediately.

Shireen almost has it in her to glare at him, but she sticks to what already decided. There’s a small discussion before the next question is asked.

“This country's colony of Sint Eustatius recognized an independent U.S. in 1776 by saluting its flag; it was the first to do so, albeit unofficially,” the advisor reads.

Shireen’s hand automatically flinches. She _knows_ this. She knows most of this, but her pride is already being eaten at enough.

“Holland,” someone declares loudly, chiming in right after his buzzer.

Rickon makes an involuntary sound before buzzing. “The Netherlands,” he corrects.

He’s _technically_ right, but on a technicality so far reached that so is their other teammate. Why couldn’t he have just let it slide? Why did it matter? The session ends, and Shireen never finds a proper question that she knows better than him. Shireen storms off as quickly as possible, just hoping that she doesn’t get put on the same team as him for their competition. Nothing would save her from the embarrassment that he’d put her through just to be _technically_ right.

Huffing loudly, Shireen leans against the side of the elevator, waiting for her reprieve in her room. She has to work for it, though, especially when Rickon walks into the elevator behind her. He doesn’t seem to notice her at first, mumbling under his breath and counting on his fingers for a long time. She only catches a few words, but she turns away and hopes that he’ll just ignore her. Luck isn’t on her side.

“Hey, Shireen,” he calls, stepping closer to her. Somehow, he isn’t off-put by her demeanor.

She doesn’t have the patience for whatever he’s going to say, though, and he’s continued on without an acknowledgement, so she cuts him off mid-sentence. “Just stop talking,” Shireen says sharply.

“Why?” Rickon asks immediately, his brow burrowing. “I thought you liked this kind of stuff. Don't you want to know?”

“No," Shireen says loudly. “I actually like silence.”

“But you'll jump out of your seat for the point,” Rickon says. He’s intentionally goading her; she can tell. If there was any feasible way for it to be, she’d think he was flirting with her. She can’t stop her heart pounding from thinking that her high school crush is finally giving her attention, but it’s not enough to stop her from being angry.

Shireen grinds her teeth together. “That doesn't mean I want to argue about technicalities and frivolous details. It's not even interesting.”

Rickon frowns. “Maybe if you actually wanted to learn,” he mumbles.

“Shut up,” Shireen snaps.

“Make me,” Rickon shoots back.

Shireen narrows her eyes at him. Maybe she doesn’t have the ability to argue technicality in his face, but she’s beyond caring about using herself instead. “Oh, I could, but you might moan a little.”

Mouth dropping open, Rickon actually looks lost for words. He recovers quickly. “Like you'd even want to try.”

The doors open up on his floor, and Rickon strides out with a victorious smile on his face. He looks way too cocky and Shireen will do anything to slap it away. Mostly out of fury, Shireen rushes after him, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around.

Rickon starts up a feeble argument. “You're not actually going to—”

Shireen silences him with her mouth, crushing her lips against his. She walks him backward into a wall, effectively pinning him there with the weight of her body. True to her word, Rickon is silent, and she pulls away with a satisfied smirk.

“You know, I don't think it counts if you steal my mouth,” he says cheekily.

As much as Shireen wants to be done with the whole encounter, Shireen can’t help but feel her stomach fluttering at his presence. He didn’t push her away. He doesn’t even look disgusted that she kissed him unlike the last boy she kissed. He’s still smiling at her, not bothering to move away from the wall where she pinned him. Gathering her courage, Shireen kisses him again, moving her mouth against his, deepening the kiss, and finding an odd amount of pleasure from the intimate contact. His hands go into her hair, pulling her closer, and he laughs against her mouth, just because he can. He pulls away at every opportunity to make a comment, though.

“Didn’t really think you were interested,” he gasps out before kissing her again. “You’re always so quiet… wasn’t the point to get me to stop talking?”

Shireen groans loudly, hitting her forehead against his chest. “You’re ruining it.”

“Am I?” Rickon asks back. “I didn’t think there was anything to ruin… And wasn’t I supposed to be moaning?”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky one day,” Shireen calls, taking a step back. She starts back to the elevator, pushing the button to call another to take her up to her floor. “But we’d need a room.”

Rickon snags her wrist, pulling her back against his chest. “You know… I have a room.”

“Technically, it’s a dorm,” Shireen corrects, but she doesn’t protest when he leads her down the hall. Maybe it was just an empty threat, or a promise for later, but Shireen can’t help but relish in her victory when Rickon is finally silent as he kisses her into the night.


End file.
